


Coffee Marks

by hellbentiero



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Love at First Sight, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbentiero/pseuds/hellbentiero
Summary: Frank doesn't like this whole soulmate thing. No, actually, he fucking hates it because he wants to fucking pick the love of his life himself, thank you very much. But things change rather quickly when a stranger with black hair and the prettiest fucking eyes spills steaming hot coffee all over Frank's chest at the coffee shop around the corner.





	Coffee Marks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for Soulmate AUs.

Frank couldn't say that he didn't believe in this whole soulmate thing, really, because the stupid mark on his wrist he couldn't cover with more tattoos made it a bit hard to deny, but he definitely wasn't a fan of this concept. Besides it being frightening to think that there could possibly be only one right person for him and he would never be able to be happy with anyone else, he hated the idea of not being given a choice at all, not being able to decide for himself who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. What right did the stupid universe have to make those decisions for him?

The idea of soulmates was like an expired cupcake to Frank: It sure looked nice, but once you took a bite, the day-old frosting would make you want to puke your guts out. There were people who did choose to ignore it and simply act based on instinct and attraction and Frank had tried that too, but he had experienced the same thing people always said about the antis, those who refused to comply: relationships couldn't last. Self-chosen relationships were somehow always doomed to fail, no matter what one did, and it was frustrating.

There were literally billions of people on the planet, so Frank was sure the universe couldn't possibly always be right, so what would happen when a mistake occurred? What if your so-called soulmate had a car accident or got stabbed in an alley? What if they got a job offer across the globe and they would never return? What if they spoke a different language and you'd never be able to communicate?

The system had to have its flaws, Frank was sure of it, so he didn't believe the supposedly reassuring statistics that were given out every year, claiming that more than 21% of soulmates already came together before they were even twenty-one, another 33% before they were twenty-five, almost equivalent 32% before the big thirty and then there were the losers; those last 14% that were romantically spoken lost and lonely until they were between thirty and forty years old. Of course, his parents had been those lucky ones who fell head over heels for each other before their high school graduation, so naturally, Frank assumed the universe would take it out on him and let him wait until he'd be thirty-nine, fat and unemployed or something equally terrible. Cancer, maybe, or maybe he'd meet his right one in a war zone.

Now, at twenty-six, he hated most parts of his life, hated his office job he had somehow found himself stuck in after college, hated his pretentious colleagues with the photos of their toddlers on their desks, hated the glossy late-night shows on TV and the dishonest smiles he was given every morning while getting his coffee from the coffee shop around the corner that had those big cookies with the melted chocolate parts that would probably later contribute to him dying fat and alone.

Internally complaining about everyone and everything, he thanked the barista for the extra vanilla shot, made sure he didn't burn his fingers while placing the lid on top of the steaming paper cup and turned around to leave the shop so he'd be at work on time, but the odds were never in his favor and he just had to bump into someone and pour the hot coffee all over his own white button-down and the t-shirt of the dumbass he had run into.

Maybe the universe just wanted to show him what it thought of people who disagreed with its concepts and the painful burning sensation spreading his chest that had him screaming out was just a sick form of revenge.

Frank wasn't sure if he was to blame for not making sure there was no one behind him or if the other one was at fault for not stepping back, but both of them were too busy cursing loudly because fuck, blazing hot brown bean water on skin and clean clothes was anything but fun, and it took lengthy strings of a variety of curse words from both of their mouths until they could both get their shit back together while the other customers shook their heads at their stupidity and one employee rolled her eyes while at least one of her colleagues was kind enough to throw Frank a cold wet towel across the counter he caught with shaking hands, the pain still roaring on his skin because the cotton hadn't been able to protect him from his at least second-degree burn.

Pressing the damp cloth to the stinging spot, he finally properly looked at the guy who was scrambling to pick up the now-empty cup and lid that had been dropped to the floor before standing back up to finally meet his eyes, still holding the cup and the lid, and both of them fell silent for a very awkward moment of staring at each other, but when they realized how weird they were both being, they hurried to cast their glances sideways. "Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry, man, you have no idea," the other guy was the first one to return to the combination of cursing and rambling, desperate to figure out how to apologize, but Frank wasn't mad either; just equally shocked, terrified and in an alarming amount of pain.

"I just, I should have watched where I was going, should have-" he continued, pale cheeks flushed as he tugged on strands of his greasy black hair to hide his trembling hands, but Frank cut him off and handed him the cloth to at least attempt to clean his own t-shirt. "No, no, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to storm out of here like that with hot coffee, I should have-" 

He was interrupted again, though. "What? Oh, no, it was totally my fault! You couldn't see who was behind you and-" 

"Really, it's fine, it's..." Frank shut up for a moment as the stranger left the cloth on the counter next to them after trying to clean the mess on the floor a little, and he expected to be cut off again, but was met with those mesmerizing eyes again he wanted to get lost in for reasons he didn't know, and things were getting more awkward with every second they spent with coffee spilled on their shirts at the counter of the busy coffeeshop with people complaining as they had to shove to pass through. Neither Frank nor the other man seemed to mind, both lost in their unfortunate encounter until the other one suddenly blurted out, "I'm Gerard."

He wiped his hands on his dark jeans before stretching out one hand Frank took hesitantly because he was still struggling to shake his senses back into his body, but as he felt the solid warmth of Gerard's soft skin, his brain attempted to spin again.

Gerard was definitely the prettiest person Frank had ever seen in his damn life and he didn't know what to do with that information.

"I'm Frank," he replied before he could tell the total stranger any of that and as they let go of each other, he felt a wave of, what, disappointment?

"Hi," he awkwardly added then, and Gerard chuckled a little, "Hi."

Another moment passed until Gerard cleared his throat and seemed embarrassed as he spoke, "I think I need to buy us both new coffee." Frank widened his eyes because he was still burning up and definitely couldn't let this guy buy him anything, but as he opened his mouth to protest, Gerard read his mind and said firmly, "I insist, really, it's the least I can do, man." 

"You really don't have to-" Frank tried to interject, but Gerard was already turning back to the counter to hand the barista the empty coffee cup that still had Frank's order scribbled on it, saying, "Could you make this one again, please? Oh wait, no, make it two," he grinned, completely and blatantly ignoring the woman who had been in line to place her own order, and the barista looked confused for a moment there, but proceeded to shrug and process Gerard's order, not really giving a shit about the bickering lady or customer service in general, really, and Frank was a little impressed by Gerard's bluntness because he would have totally returned to the end of the ridiculously long line.

He chose not to point that out because he didn't want to look like even more of a loser because damn, Gerard's eyes really were pretty. "You don't even know if you'll like what I ordered," he chose to remark instead once Gerard had paid, but Gerard shrugged and gave him another shy smile. "I figured I'd trust you there." 

"After I burned you with my coffee?" Frank couldn't help but reply with a smile on his lips and Gerard returned the smile, but it turned into a frown when his gaze returned to Frank's shirt. In the first frenzy moment of shock and pain, Frank had hastily ripped open two of his buttons to attempt to calm the burnt patch of skin down a little, but those popped buttons now revealed just how bad it was and how the skin had already formed angry red blisters. 

"I think you're off a lot worse than me," Gerard said with worry lacing his voice and reached out to touch the damage, but Frank flinched because every touch hurt like hell all over again, and Gerard immediately drew his hand back. "Sorry, I didn't-" 

"It just, um, hurts," Frank pointed out and Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I didn't, I should have thought more, I'm really sorry, Frank," he repeated his apologies and looked away, but Frank was not angry at all. "I just, god, I've been messing up everything lately and now I did this and I-" Gerard had started to talk himself into a frenzy and Frank tried to interrupt him, but when it didn't work, he simultaneously decided to firmly grip the man's wrist instead to shut him up, and that's when he froze. 

When Frank got a hold of Gerard's wrist, the sleeve of his shirt rode up far enough to reveal his soulmark and it took Frank a moment to process what his eyes were seeing. 

He didn't want to believe it, couldn't even, not here, not now, not like this, but the soulmark of the man he'd just run into at a coffee shop ending in brutal burns on their skin matched his. 

It didn't resemble it, didn't look similar, no, it fucking matched. Exact same fucking symbol. 

The chances for that were one in seven billion and here it was happening right in front of him and Frank felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't believe this was real and not part of a bad reality show.

Gerard seemed very confused by Frank's sudden paralyzation and yanked his wrist back to wave with his hands in front of Frank's face. "You okay? Are you getting dizzy or sick or something? Do you need anything?"

His voice brought Frank back, but it still didn't make an answer possible, so he wordlessly shoved back his own sleeve and held up his wrist for Gerard to see who took a moment to get it, but when he did, the breath caught in his throat too.

"It can't be," he whispered and it was suddenly like they were all alone, only the two of them, and the noise and clutter from the dozens of people around them faded into the background. As Gerard's hesitant gaze met Frank's, eyes wide in disbelief and surprise, everything else seemed to blend into white noise, static he couldn't register.

"You... We?" Gerard whispered and Frank's ears were ringing, his heart thumping so loudly he was scared it would jump from his chest. 

"Yeah," was all he could say and reached out to touch Gerard's fingers. Like it was meant to be, Gerard reached out too and their fingers interlaced like they'd done it a thousand times before.

"I have no idea how this works," Gerard whispered and fuck, his eyes were so beautiful that Frank wanted to cry a little.

"I don't think anyone does," Frank found himself whispering back, his hand squeezing Gerard's who didn't waste a moment to return the gesture, and their smiles matched too. Something warm settled in Frank's chest and although it shouldn't be possible with the intensity of his injuries, the blinding pain began to fade.

"But I think we should start with that coffee we were talking about."

  



End file.
